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Post by Jake Quinn on Jan 8, 2009 16:31:24 GMT -5
*Jake laughed, hugging her.*
"Not t'worry. I'll wake you every two hours until dawn," *he said with a wink.*
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Post by Lark Quinn on Jan 11, 2009 7:18:35 GMT -5
*That did ease her mind a bit and a soft smile suffused her face. She nuzzled against him, settling in comfortably.*
"That's a relief. Suppose I should try to catch some sleep while I can." *She joked gently.*
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Post by Jake Quinn on Jan 11, 2009 7:55:00 GMT -5
"Probably," *said Jake.* "I can't promise I'll stop at dawn, neither."
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Post by Lark Quinn on Jan 11, 2009 8:03:02 GMT -5
*Lark giggled and nipped his shoulder.*
"I can only hope." *She purred. It was perfect, just her and her man. Her husband. The man that would father he children. Everything seemed so wonderful. She didn't want to sleep, but knew that she probably should. Apparently she would be needing her strength.*
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Post by Nance Sikes on Jan 11, 2009 8:13:05 GMT -5
***POSTING AS JAKE SORRY TO THOSE WHO WERE HOPING FOR HOT HOT GIRL ON GIRL***
*Jake cuddled her close, falling into a deliriously happy and deep sleep.*
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Post by Lark Quinn on Jan 11, 2009 8:18:29 GMT -5
((Much to Jake's disappointment, I imagine. )) *Lark was lulled by the slow hum of his breath and eventually joined him in sleep, contently curled against him.*
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Post by Jake Quinn on Jan 31, 2009 16:47:32 GMT -5
***THE NEXT MORNING***
*Jake woke up slowly, his head thick and muddled with everything that had happened in these last days. When he realized it was Lark fast asleep in his arms, a grin spread across his face as he watched her sleep.
It wasn't long before he decided she'd slept long enough and pressed his lips against one bare shoulder, his hands teasing her skin beneath the sheets as his teeth found her earlobe.*
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Post by Lark Quinn on Feb 3, 2009 9:33:45 GMT -5
*Lark shifted slightly. Then more eagerly. Her body twisted in the sheet, constricting it as she grew more agitated.*
"No." *She whimpered, a meekness about her that was generally uncharacteristic.* "Please..."
*Lark gasped sharply, a cry muffled in her throat as she shot up, eyes wide and breath shallow. She looked confused, the heaviness of sleep compounding the unfamiliar surroundings as she gasped for air.*
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Post by Jake Quinn on Feb 3, 2009 16:43:46 GMT -5
*Jake reeled back, terrified that he'd hurt her, clutching at the sheet bunched around his hips.*
"Whoa--whoa," *he said softly, reaching out a hand as if to settle her but hesitating to let himself touch her.* "Lark...Lark...you alright? I'm sorry, Lark..."
*He snatched his hand back and ran it through his tangled hair, uncertain.*
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Post by Lark Quinn on Feb 3, 2009 18:00:37 GMT -5
*Her eyes darted immediately to him as he spoke, and upon realization sinking in, Lark calmed a little. Relief seemed to sink into her and she found herself pressed against him, arms embracing him tightly.*
"Jake. I'm...I'm sorry." *She had colored in deep embarrassment.*
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Post by Jake Quinn on Feb 3, 2009 20:10:40 GMT -5
"Hey now, what--what was that all about? Y'scared me half t'death...though a bit less than I scared you, I think..." *his brow furrowed.* "I ain't never gonna hurt ya, Lark..."
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Post by Lark Quinn on Feb 4, 2009 6:49:14 GMT -5
"I know." *Lark whispered, face still buried against his chest.* "I know. It was...just a dream."
*Her lips tightened at the memory of it. She thought she'd escaped it, but it had come back so fresh and strong. Her heart was still pounding, but she did her best to slow her breathing.*
"A dream." *She repeated, as if to convince herself.*
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Post by Jake Quinn on Feb 4, 2009 19:51:02 GMT -5
"...not th'way yer twitchin' like a hare's heels inna hound's teeth."
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Post by Lark Quinn on Feb 5, 2009 7:48:17 GMT -5
*Lark's body went rigid and she pulled back a little, keeping her face lowered.*
"I..." *Her hand lifted, rubbing her forehead in frustration.*
"I rather not talk about it." *She whispered.*
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Post by Jake Quinn on Feb 5, 2009 16:26:51 GMT -5
So you admit it's not just a dream.
*Jake nodded shortly.*
"Alright. Fine."
*He swung his long legs out of bed and stood, pulling his trousers on and grabbing his shirt and boots along with the bowl that held his shaving soap and razor before he left the room without another word.*
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